


Medium Rare, Nobody Can Compare

by underworlds



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 10:46:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20241580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/underworlds/pseuds/underworlds
Summary: 8/13/2019 - Roxas is having a no good, very bad day! But what he does have is a boyfriend in their steakhouse chef element, who is committed to making sure Roxas loosens up, even on shift...





	Medium Rare, Nobody Can Compare

**Author's Note:**

> Oh lord, what a time to be alive, yo. It's certainly been a trip trying to get back into the fandom and seeing how any AkuRoku fan is doxxed and shamed into pedophile oblivion and beyond. God, y'all woulda just combusted in 2007. But I didn't. So here ya go!
> 
> Obviously my AU takes place when both A&R and any other character are in their twenties. There's no underage here. G'bye!

“Sora, don’t fall in the fountain.”

Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, Roxas could not help but notice how often he sounded like an exhausted parent when he spoke to his twin. To his credit, Sora was precariously bent over the small stone fountain in the center of the steakhouse, balancing on one foot, nose inches from the water as he watched the koi fish swim aimlessly back and forth above the glittering copper pennies at the bottom. 

“Roxas, come look at the fish!” the brunette called over his shoulder, gesturing with one hand, as if these weren’t the same fish they’d seen last time they had dinner here a week ago. 

“I have to get our table,” Roxas reminded him, turning towards the hostess podium to wait his turn behind a heavyset man in a yellow Tommy Bahama shirt. It was only a matter of time until his brother asked everyone for their spare change to throw in that fountain. A large stone Buddha with a serene smile sat above the pool, its lap filled with crumpled dollar bills. I’d be smiling too if someone dropped money in my lap, Roxas thought with a twinge of bitterness.

The holidays had been tough on his wallet. Adulting, it turns out, is actually awful and Roxas couldn’t deny that he sometimes fulfilled the lyric ‘nobody likes you when you’re twenty-three’. He didn’t consider himself a great gift giver and opted to give most everyone gift cards, adding a little extra to assuage the slight guilt about not making a greater effort to personalize them. Sora, Axel, Namine, and Xion were the only ones who received meaningful, specifically chosen presents. 

Adding insult to injury, he’d just paid his portion of the rent this morning and could feel how noticeably light his back pocket was. Even worse, he’d dropped one of his camera lenses. The sounds of his shrieking and cussing carried far by the concerned looks he got on his way out of the building. That’s why they were at Shin-Ra Steakhouse for dinner tonight - Axel’s employee discount was very generous and, as Sora put it, “you look like someone shat in your Cheerios, we need to go out and have some fun!’

Glancing sideways, he could see the exact moment that Sora began to wobble and released a grateful breath when Riku promptly grabbed him by the hood and yanked him upright before he could share a very wet kiss with the koi. Roxas said a silent prayer of gratitude that the universe had seen fit to put Riku in their lives in preschool, he wasn’t sure he’d have been able to keep Sora alive this long all on his own. The boy could trip over his own feet and fall down a manhole all the way to Hell if there was even a 0.0000000007% possibility.

“Hey, Roxas!” A press of soft lips to his cheek startled him momentarily.

But the blonde turned with a smile, already knowing who it was by the sound of their voice. “Hi, Kairi.”

Growing up with Sora meant growing up with Kairi too and the older they got the more Roxas appreciated her. She, like Riku, managed to keep Sora on his own two feet - most of the time. As children, Roxas was fiercely protective of Sora, something that hadn’t changed with age, and a little bit possessive of his always smiling twin who made friends so much more easily than he did. Roxas could remember a time so long ago when he didn’t ‘like’ Kairi, which was actually just him not wanting to share Sora with anyone else. A repeating pattern, he’d learn, and just one of the bullet points in his rather lengthy list of ‘issues’. 

He could scarcely remember life before Riku was a permanent fixture, but even they had their adolescent bouts of clamoring over Sora, before one drunken night at a house party when Riku admitted that he knew the bond between Roxas and Sora was something he’d never be able to replicate or compare to, and it made him sad. Jealous. Made him feel inadequate, disposable. Things that for all intents and purposes, any bystander would never expect to be a concern for someone like Riku. 

Roxas could distinctly remember dangling his feet in the cool water of the host’s saltwater pool, listening as Riku, laying on his back atop an inflatable swan with an IPA in his hand, had the courage to give inebriated voice to the tension between them that had festered for months until Roxas finally called him on it. Colorfully. He was all white-hot retaliation, simmering, biding, waiting baby rattlesnake energy. He’d strike back without hesitation, but often didn’t initiate conflict, at least not directly.

That night by the water, the dapples of blue and green reflecting off of Riku’s wet, moonshine hair, had tempered that volatility between them almost instantly. Riku understood that Roxas did not need nor wanted to be coddled, did not require the same innate softness that Sora instinctively invoked, and that it was pointless to feel left-out of a relationship that began in utero. By the time the swan had drifted back over to his side of the pool, the static had settled, and Roxas, who had snatched the beer bottle, pulled Riku back up on to land. They’d returned to the party, laughing, to find Kairi doubled over laughing and Sora sitting in the kitchen sink, peanut butter inexplicably in his hair, and a chipped mug of red wine in his hand.

The day that Sora had climbed on their first grade lunch table and declared that he, Kairi, and Riku would all get married one day was a story frequently brought up at family functions and house parties. Roxas eventually got over that jealousy, it was hard not to. The spunky redheaded girl was just too kind, too charming, too likable. His thoughts drifted to Axel and wondered why this seemed to be a repeating pattern in his life, redheads worming, or rather, stampeding their way into his heart.

“Namine will be a little late,” Kairi told him, unzipping her light pink leather jacket. “She had to finish some work at the studio for her show next week.”

“Cool.” He inclined his head in a ‘follow me’ motion when the hostess locked eyes with him and began to come around the podium to lead them to the table.

They followed her toward the back of the restaurant, passing tables of young children squealing as flames leapt into the air, the sharp sound of cutlery against metal coming from all directions. As they went by, Riku nodded in understanding and turned to collect Sora, who was now squatting at the foot of the fountain. Roxas could hear his brother’s chipper farewell to the fish behind him and shared a fond but tired look with Kairi who was already giggling.

Once they settled at the table and the hostess departed with the promise of sending their server over for drink orders, Roxas reached into his pocket for his cell phone. He sat closest to the end, his preferred spot, with Kairi at his right and Sora sandwiched between her and Riku. Ventus had texted him back to let him know that as his little brother, he was of course welcome to come over and do laundry at his place since Roxas and Sora’s machine was busted. He exhaled in relief, the prospect of hauling all his dirty clothes to and from the laundromat was not something he’d been looking forward to.

Sora and Roxas may be the twins, but it was Roxas and Ventus who looked near identical. We shared a womb and you and Ven share a face! Sora had once proclaimed after the some-hundredth time Roxas had to explain to someone that they had different hair colors because they were fraternal twins. Ven was on a long roadtrip with his friends, he’d posted a photo of himself and Roxas and Sora’s former babysitter, Aqua, earlier today, a cute shot of the two of them eating Dole Whip ice cream and wearing mouse ears.

“Howdy ho!” Demyx greeted as he ambled over to their table and dropped into a seat at the corner. Roxas was happy to see that Axel’s roommate hadn’t lugged one of his obscenely large instrument cases along with him this time. They didn’t need a repeat performance of a server tripping over it and sending three martini glasses flying.

Eventually, Selphie and Hayner joined them at the table and they all chatted amiably until ordering their drinks. Sora dominated much of the conversation by proudly informing everyone about how Riku’s father had ‘single handedly’ introduced a new method of netting that entirely altered the way the Islands approached fishing. It was something that each and every one of them were well aware of, but seeing how Sora wildly gestured as he attempted to explain the finer details, arms shimmying in a pantomime of a fish, no one had the heart to interrupt. Least of all Riku, who smiled that small, soft smile that was reserved only for Sora, over the amber rim of his beer bottle.

The soup course arrived and Roxas pointedly pushed his bowl away once the server was out of sight. He hated mushrooms. Instead, he chuckled as he observed Kairi, still in mid-conversation, automatically take the soda Sora was struggling to open out of his hands and easily pop the top to hand it back. She and Selphie idly swirled their soup spoons as they discussed the latest episode of a teen television drama while Demyx and Hayner continued bantering back and forth about a new album, the older insisting that the quality of the sound mixing paled in comparison to the last release, which Hayner disputed with a loud WHAT?! 

Just as they finished their first round of drinks, Namine and Xion arrived. Namine in a white sweater with little stars stitched at the sleeves and Xion in a blue flannel beneath her favorite jean vest. Roxas noticed one of the patches on the denim, to the right of her heart, was his holiday gift to her and felt his chest swell with a rush of happiness. The seashell patch was handmade, the threads a subtle glittery blend of red, yellow, and blue. 

The evenings where he, Axel, and Xion bought a couple six-packs, rolled a few joints, and spent the hours stitching patches and applying pins to their matching vests during their departure from sobriety were some of Roxas’s favorites. More than once Isa had returned to the apartment to find the three of them, hammered, giggling, hiding behind the couch as if Isa wasn’t well aware they were there. Axel’s hair and Xion’s foot, the only one still with a sock, poking out from behind the cushion certainly didn’t lend to the illusion. Those were the mornings after where they’d wake up tangled together until one of them blindly fumbled for the ibuprofen that their charitable drunk-self left behind for such an occasion.

Once Xion helped Namine tuck away her portfolio and took a seat beside him, the best friends shared a grin as they bumped shoulders, attention quickly drawn by the increasing volume of Demyx and Hayner’s debate. Sora’s voice also rose to continuously ask them “who?!” over and over again until Riku finally indulged him from over his soup and answered him despite not paying attention to the squabbling men across the table.

“Alright, alright, alright!” came the loudest voice in very impressive Matthew McConaughey drawl.

Axel arrived to a bevy of applause, hooting, and Demyx whistling a particularly sharp cat call that drew the startled gazes of some of their neighbors. He pushed a cart into the space beside the grill, bowing at each corner of the table in an exaggerated display of gratitude. Roxas felt an unbidden wave of pride as he watched his boyfriend ham it up, how natural it was for him. His normally absurd hair was held back in a fiery porcupine-esque ponytail in order to accommodate the hat that was part of the uniform. As lenient as the steakhouse was when it came to piercings and tattoos in the dress code, the hat was mandatory. After all, it was part of the show. 

That very un-sexy hat, Roxas recalled with an unconscious smile and a hint of color coming to his face, had made an appearance during a particularly hot and heavy session a few weeks ago, after Roxas made the mistake of verbalizing how it was kind of a boner killer. Axel, damn him, had taken that comment as both a personal offense and a challenge. By the end, sweaty, exhausted, and a little delirious, Roxas admitted and agreed that, yes, he’d be attracted to Axel even if he was wearing a nun’s habit. 

It wasn’t Roxas’s fault that his response to the hat was now bordering on Pavlovian. His eyes roamed over his boyfriend, from the scarlet hair, the mischievous acid green of his eyes, and sharp full smile, the ink creeping down his toned arms, and the narrow hips beneath the apron. Sometimes, often times at random moments with no particular significance, Roxas found himself so equally enamored and turned on by just observing Axel that he totally zoned out. That was, until those disarming eyes met his own across the table. Axel winked knowingly and just like that, Roxas was back.

He’d seen this show so many times, but his favorite part remained the same. When Axel squirted oil on to the grill, flicked a lighter, and the flames roared to life, Roxas could feel the heat of them against his whole torso, but he was looking past their flare, ignoring the cacophony of his friends’ reactions, at how the orange light reflected off of Axel’s startlingly green eyes and delighted white grin. It, like sunset atop the clocktower in Twilight Town, was one of his favorite sights of all time.

The redhead was good at his job, which may be surprising to some but to Roxas it was almost begrudgingly expected. Axel’s skill set was a wide, strange amalgamation of unexpected talents. He had a habit of always picking the right scratch-off, could juggle, throw his voice, figure out who the president or monarch at the time was if you gave him a specific year, fire dance, was a ringer at darts, and, of course, could cook like a sonofabitch. But when it came to balancing his checkbook, parallel parking, fishing, drawing, working a lawnmower, finding misplaced keys, or skateboarding, Axel was all thumbs.

His deft fingers and reflexes served him well for the variety of knife tricks involved in this line of work. Roxas could remember all the practicing Axel had done when he first started, the sound of metal clattering to the floor and a loud curse following still clear as day. It hadn’t been unusual to walk into Axel’s apartment to find him idly spinning a blade between his fingers while a re-run of Peaky Blinders played on the television. The redhead bounced an egg on a spatula, once, twice, three times, before it flew upwards to land softly in that damn hat.

Axel’s charisma was also an asset. More often than not, when it came time to toss a vegetable for the guests to catch in their mouths, Axel could coax even the shyest and the most self-conscious in to participating. They’d end up having broccoli bounce off their nose nine times out of ten, but still, the charm often resulted in a decent tip. Stage fright was not a problem at their table, however. Demyx and Sora were practically vaulting out of their chairs to catch the flying vegetables, jaws open so wide Roxas didn’t know how they weren’t dislocated. 

Eventually, after a few attempts, both eager men were able to catch it. Riku naturally got his on the first try, Hayner jumped in his seat to catch his in its wide arc, and in lieu of catching hers in the face, Xion, with a steel trap’s precision, snatched hers out of the air to delicately pop it into her mouth. As she chewed with a self-satisfied twist to her lips, Axel whistled approvingly with a crow of, “Breaking tradition, that’s my girl!”

When it came to his turn, Roxas begrudgingly uncrossed his arms and leaned forward, lips parted, eyes trained on where the green morsel perched on his chef boyfriend’s spatula.

“C’mon, Rox,” Axel grinned. “I know you can open your mouth wider than that.”

Roxas tried not to snort at the chorus of teasing ‘ooh’s that erupted around him on all sides and instead opened his mouth further, a challenging quirk to his brow. With a snap of his wrist, Axel flicked the small piece into the air and, when Roxas caught it easily, began clapping the knives in his hands together in a sharp, metallic applause.

Towards the end of the show, as everyone was having their respective meats distributed, a trim blonde woman paused at the table after emerging from the employees only area. She raised a hand and wiggled her delicate fingers in a lazy not quite interested greeting. Her sharp eyes settled on Axel’s back, a taunting lilt to her pink lips until he seemed to register her presence and glanced over his shoulder, still spinning another egg for the rice.

“Clocked out, Larx?” 

“Yep,” she answered with a pop. “Off for the rest of the weekend.”

“Lucky witch,” Axel stuck his pierced tongue out at her, shifting the vegetables on to everyone’s plates.

Axel and Larxene had ‘dated, if you could even call it that, for a short period of time as teenagers. Axel referred to it as his ‘Electric Period’. There’d been a lot of self-discovery, thrown knives, ironically, and at least one police report filed by the neighbors during those volatile months a decade ago. Isa, Axel’s oldest friend and other roommate, had told him that this particular occasion was the first and only time he would ever bail Axel out of jail, something Axel would always call bullshit on. 

Isa admitted in his monotone that if he hadn’t, someone would have surely shanked Axel since he was incapable of keeping his mouth shut. Basically, Axel and Larxene had history, but the two of them got along better as friends, which is why this seemingly bordering on flirty banter between them didn’t bother Roxas.. 

As possessive as he could admittedly be, he felt strangely at ease listening the continuing tennis match of their insults hurled back and forth. It helped work go by faster, Axel had told him once. Both he and Larxene were able to get the side job through their siblings and as the senior employee and resident knife savant, Larxene had been tasked with overseeing Axel’s training with the knives before he could officially serve and perform. Even when the jabs were charged with a subtext that only people who have bumped uglies would appreciate, there was seldom a moment nowadays where Roxas doubted his boyfriend.

Axel, for all intents and purposes, was a Labrador. A Labrador that you may come home to find has ripped up all the tiles in your kitchen for shits and giggles, but he would do anything Roxas asked all the same. Jump. Fetch. Roll over. If Roxas asked him to give him the moon, Axel would make an elaborate lasso demonstration that culminated in him dropping his pants What you said you wanted a moon, Rox? For as ridiculously over the top, or weird, or outlandish as his displays of affection were, Roxas knew they were 100% a genuine, sincere collaborative product of Axel’s heart and that bizarre brain he hid under all that scarlet hair.

“Try not to singe your hair tonight, Axhole,” Larxene smirked, before continuing towards the door.

“One time, Larx, one time! I have like five times as much hair as you!” 

He waved a spatula after her retreating form, which everyone knew would include a middle finger if this wasn’t their workplace. The children? Larxene couldn’t care less about their young, impressionable minds. Roxas remembered last Super Bowl when they were walking past a playground, trying to follow Demyx’s very unreliable GPS to a new bar, when she taught the kids a bunch of fun new words by shrieking colorfully at Demyx’s lack of common sense and shitty data plan.

“She’s so hot,” Hayner proclaimed longingly, watching the blonde hair bounce out the door.

Axel dropped some steak on to his plate and plainly said, “She’d eat you alive, bro.”

Demyx lifted his head from his plate, nodding with a solemn expression. “Slowly. And she’d probably throw you up to save some for later.”

“Hello, we’re eating.” Xion deadpanned, tapping her fork against the plate before stabbing a piece of shrimp.

Demyx shrugged sheepishly, extending his plate for the lo mein being passed out. Axel winked at Roxas when he dropped some extra noodles in front of him, well aware of his paramour’s dislike for mushrooms but taste for lo mein. With the show complete and the grill scrubbed, Axel wheeled his cart away with a final gratuitous bow. Roxas tried not to let his gaze linger on those hips, hips Axel had once told him, that had won him the 3rd grade summer camp hula-hoop championship. His stare, however, absolutely did follow the redhead’s ass until Axel was around the paneled screen and out of sight. With an uncomfortable tightness in his jeans, Roxas tried to distract himself by diving into his meal and appeasing a different kind of hunger.

After twenty minutes, with enough leftovers for a hearty midnight snack, Roxas slid out from behind the table, left his companions to rub their swollen stomachs, and headed down the hallway to the two private unisex bathrooms. He and Xion were going to share a bowl of ice cream, which he expected would be there by the time he got back. Inside the second bathroom was a wall size portrait of a woman sensually eating an avocado roll. It always unnerved Roxas, the strange choice of decor, so he glared at her unmoving expression throughout the whole process before washing his hands. He fully intended to leave Bathroom Sushi Lady in peace. 

Yet, when he opened the door to exit, he was promptly rushed backward by someone entering, and the door swung shut with a snap behind them. Roxas found himself corralled until his back connected with the opposite wall and a hot mouth was pressed against his own. He’d know that mouth anywhere.

“You didn’t eat your soup,” Axel tutted beside his ear once he ended the abrupt kiss.

Tilting his head back against the portrait, the top of his golden hair reaching the woman’s collarbone, Roxas replied, “You know I hate mushrooms.”

“Because you’re a heathen,” Axel said with a dramatically wistful sigh.

A laugh burst out of the smaller man, smile bright and star-ending. “I’m the heathen?”

He could feel one of the strands of red hair that had come loose from the ponytail brush against his cheek when Axel drew back to look him in the eyes with a comically serious expression. “Oh yes. Disliking mushrooms is on par with kicking babies, homosexual sex, and women wearing pants.”

“In that order?” he asked, feeling a smile sneak up on him. This fucking adorable idiot.

Axel nodded sagely, one hand still flat on the wall at the sushi woman’s chin, the other beginning to rub a small continuous circle at the exposed flesh of Roxas’s hip where his black shirt rode up . “In that order.”

Roxas, never one to back down from a challenge either, extended one of his legs to press between Axel’s own. “I like the sound of the second one.”

Axel’s carnivorous grin crept over his face like inertia. “I like the way you sound during the second one.”

“Yeah?” his thigh pressed firmly into the black denim of Axel’s jeans, feeling the older man’s fingers twitch and scorch at his hip bone.

“Mmhm.” a bite to the porcelain column of his throat. “S’kinda my favorite.”

Roxas rocked forward, the hard weight of Axel’s arousal against his thigh. With a light nudge to the redhead’s jawline, he drew Axel’s face away from soothing the bite at his neck and closer to his own. He waited for the moment those green eyes closed halfway and Axel tilted his head just so before...

“Don’t you have to get back to work?” 

The expression on that stunned tattooed face, a lot surprised and a little impressed, made the laugher tumble out of Roxas’s smirking mouth. Smug, he continued snickering at the loud groan Axel let out in reply even when he dropped his forehead to Roxas’s shoulder. This was a decidedly not-sexy moan, but for as much as Axel drove Roxas crazy, it was only fair that Roxas got to have some fun at his boyfriend’s expense once in a while.

“Babe, c’mon, I’ve been juggling junior high graduation parties all day,” Axel whined with a purposeful yank at the back of Roxas’s collar, expression petulant. “Gimme something to get through the rest of this shift. Please?”

Roxas snorted, still pinned like a butterfly. “As if you weren’t going to make this exact performance the moment you got home?”

Axel straightened slightly, smiled a devious, concerning smile, before pecking Roxas on the tip of his nose. With that, before Roxas could even wonder what he was up to, he walked back over to the door and slid the silver lock into place with a loud click. The way that Axel turned back around and smirked, dangerously, with that look in his eye told Roxas he was in trouble. The predatory way that Axel prowled slowly back toward him confirmed it.

It was like being approached by a big cat, Roxas couldn’t do anything but stand his ground and try not to break eye contact. Running would only make it worse. And it wasn’t like there was anywhere to go. When they were toe to toe, Roxas’s head defiantly tilted backward to accommodate their height difference, Axel didn’t waste time in picking up where he left off. He bent down, one hand braced against the wall beside Roxas’s skull, and pushed his tongue past the younger’s lips, the tip flicking in wicked triumph. His hand, equally nefarious, settled on the dark denim of Roxas’s groin and squeezed hard in retaliation.

“A-Axel, seriously,” Roxas stuttered, pulling back, trying for stern. “Someone’s going to come in.”

“No they won’t,” the redhead replied against his throat, mouthing the other side now, with the utmost confidence, his hand slowly kneading at the bulge in Roxas’s jeans.

Roxas huffed, restraining himself from rocking forward into that delightful pressure. “Of course they will, it’s the bathroom. People...”

Axel’s smirk was audible against his throat. “People, Rox?”

“People need to piss,” he bit out, resolve beginning to crumble as his hips twitched. There was no question that he could end this right now with one utterance of ‘no’ and Axel would drop it, but if he even wanted to… “Change babies and shit.”

Axel lifted his head with a wet kiss to the blonde’s throat. “Doesn’t changing the baby typically come after the shit?”

Roxas groaned frustratedly, glaring at the smirk he’d been correct in hearing, “You know what I mean!”

“And I also know that no one is going to come in here.” 

“How’s that?” Roxas countered, a hand gripping his partner’s shoulder. “You only locked the door. They’ll just wait.”

“Because there’s an out of order sign on the door,” Axel announced with finality.

Roxas’s jaw dropped and, after a moment, when he understood that Axel had indeed planned this, astounded laughter came out. “You’re insane!”

Axel, with his sharp charming grin and electric eyes had the audacity to lean forward and press their foreheads together before replying, “Insane about you, babe.”

“And so lame!” the smaller male laughed, drawing out the vowels despite opening his mouth to acquiesce to the kiss he’d already anticipated. 

Axel’s tongue slid back into his mouth, slower this time, the sensation of the metal piercing in it brushing against his own made Roxas shudder delightfully. Axel’s hand had, maddeningly, fallen still over his groin and the blonde’s hips ground demandingly against the weight of it as they prolonged the dirty kiss for as long as they could before drawing back to change the angle and do it all over again. Roxas could feel how hot and wet his lips already were when Axel pulled away to regard him with a ravenous stare. 

“I think you’ll recall,” he began in a low voice, hand closing purposefully around the bulge in his jeans. Roxas, for his part, managed to stifle the majority of the groan that tumbled past his swollen lips.

Axel bent forward again, nipping at his earlobe as he finished in a low purr, “That I’m anything but lame.”

Roxas’s impetuous eyes were like bluebottle flames. “Prove it.”

Two words. 

Roxas made a sound, too shrill for his liking, when Axel abruptly dragged his sharp tongue from Roxas’s perineum to his tailbone. That’s how they ended up here five minutes later, those two goading words had resulted in Roxas braced against the tiling, jeans and boxers yanked down, with one hand grasping the accessibility bar fixed into the wall while Axel delivered a sharp nip to his left cheek and rose to his feet.

The blonde swallowed heavily, the tendons in his arms taut with anticipation. Waiting, waiting, until he finally glared over his shoulder to witness Axel simply observing him with a hungry stare, splayed against the wall as he was, like he hadn’t just quickly but very enthusiastically rimmed Roxas to the edge of orgasm for the past few minutes.

“What?” 

Axel smirked, gaze flicking back up, “Just admiring the view.” 

Roxas huffed and arched his back enticingly, but more impatiently. “Can you admire it when you get in me?”

“D’you seriously think there’s a moment I ever stop admiring it?” One warm hand squeezed his left cheek where he’d bitten and Roxas pushed back into the contact on instinct. “But unfortunately we’re on a time crunch here.” 

“It would go a lot faster if you’d shut the fuck up,” Roxas snarled, knuckles cracking with the effort of gripping the bar secured to the wall. He didn’t like to be kept waiting, especially when he was being as charitable as he was tonight in indulging Axel’s demands for a risky quickie.

Axel grinned behind him, automatically avoiding the aggravated kick aimed in his direction.“You’re so sexy when you’re angry, Rox.” 

“Axel,” Roxas ground out between clenched teeth. “I swear-”

“Alright, alright, alright...” the redhead conceded, the sound of his belt buckle unclasping distinct in the silence of the bathroom.

“Please don’t McConaughey me when you’re about to penetrate me!”

Roxas heard the tearing of the condom wrapper and decided not to bring up how convenient it was that Axel happened to have one in there, almost as if he hoped this would happen from the moment the dinner reservation was made. Despite the anticipation and the frayed patience, Roxas sighed at the expected ritualistic kiss behind his ear that signaled the teasing portion of this rendezvous was over. 

Then, right on schedule, came the absurdly warm, steadying hand at his hip, which was immediately followed by Axel finally pressing against and then in to him. Roxas hissed through the worst of the intrusion, well acquainted with it, and shuddered at the vibration of Axel’s low groan as he sank further inside of him before stilling.

“Move, Axel, for fuck’s sake...” Roxas grumbled after a minute of controlled breathing, shoulders hunched like knives.

“Always such a charmer,” Axel murmured in the region behind Roxas’s left ear, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles at the blonde’s waist as he drew out only to thrust back in.

They were no strangers to hurried trysts. Years of this made good practice and despite being in their twenties there were some habits that you never grow out of. Axel’s jeans were yanked down just enough to grant access and with the complementary lotion at the sink and a quick but thorough combo of fingering and rimming, he knew he didn’t have to worry about hurting Roxas with a lack of preparation.Where was the fun in that? Finding a position that would accommodate their disparity in height wasn’t always easy depending on their surroundings, but like this, at the right angle, it was perfect.

Soon enough, Axel’s thrusts were single-minded, as if summoned to specifically drive Roxas to distraction. The redhead was if nothing, dedicated to making sure his partner was driven to near delirium, and he used every piston or angle of his narrow hips to accomplish that end.

And Roxas held on.

Axel flicked a tongue against the knob of his spine. “How’s it feel, babe?”

Roxas took a few seconds to respond, his eyes heavy with pleasure, “Good...”

“Yeah?” Axel bent forward to bite at his neck. “Is that why you’re so fucking tight around my cock? Feels that good?”

“You know it does, asshole..” he could feel his free hand scrabble at the white tile, head dipping back as if suspended in orbit, words like cotton in his mouth.

“Y’know when you show up when I’m working,” the elder began, voice low, hips ruthless against his prostate. “You make it so hard not to cut myself because all I’m thinking about is bending you over the table.”

“O-OSHA,” Roxas snickered, turning his head to catch Axel’s gaze with his dilated blue eyes. “Probably wouldn’t - fuck! - Find that s-sanitary.”

The delicate arc of his bronzed spine was a work of art, at least in Axel’s opinion. He could watch Roxas, panting, moaning, near-black-eyes-finally-starting-to-lose-focus Roxas like this forever. He’d become a monk at the altar of a fuck-dumb Roxas for the rest of his days given the option. Unfortunately, forever was going to have to be cut short, he reminded himself, picking up the pace until it was near punishing.

Which was apparently what Roxas had been waiting for. The younger man moaned loud, the sound bouncing off the tile before he drew his hand along the wall to cover his mouth. Axel hissed at the way the shift in Roxas’s stabilizing elbow changed the angle. The keen behind that hand told him that he was now effectively jabbing Roxas’s prostate with every inward buck of his hips, so Axel kept at it. Ruthlessly.

Roxas clung to the wall, the pounding of the blood in his ears loud, but not loud enough to drown out the litany of filth that left Axel’s lips: “love making you feel good Rox, you’re practically dripping for me, wish I could keep you like this, pinned on my cock and moaning, would you like that baby? So good for me, later I wanna hear all those sweet sounds you’re trying to hold in, make you scream for me, you’re so perfect.”

To his credit, Roxas could deal it back. There’d been more than one occasion where, with some rope, opportunity, and quite a bit of smugness, he’d gotten the jump on Axel. After tying the redhead’s wrists, he reminded him that both his vocabulary and his inclination for payback were very extensive. Once, Axel reduced to a collapsed heap of long limbs, like an extinguished pyre, had lifted one weak hand to point and declare ‘Brain gone, 13/10, would ride again’. 

Now, with all the stress he’d been carrying around all day, Roxas distantly realized this might have been exactly what he needed. A release. Letting Axel take the weight of control he seldom allowed to be wrested from him for a while, like this, was a sweet form of it.

“Babe, please,” Roxas whined, one hand flailing backwards to catch at the side of Axel’s sharp jaw, trying to draw that wicked mouth to his own despite the contortion of his wrist. “Fuck me, I’m so close!”

The collision of their lips was “You wanna come?”

“Yes, dammit! C’mon, please, make me -”

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ve got you.” 

Axel’s low growl of a voice, like velvet against his over sensitized nerve endings, the single-minded thrusts of his hips, and the deft pumping of his sure hand brought him right to the summit.

“Come for me, Rox.”

With that, all the tension and warmth in his lower belly snapped like an obedient band, white hot and overwhelming. He was faintly aware of crying out, of Axel’s loud curse at how his body suddenly constricted around him, and, most acutely, of Axel’s hand, wet and sticky, still moving to prolong the final blinding throes of Roxas’s orgasm. His other hand, like a brand, gripped his Roxas’s waist, and Roxas was distantly grateful for it helping to keep him on his feet 

A handful of moments later, with a final low groan that sounded almost like Roxas’s name, Axel’s hips juddered to a stop, and his damp forehead fell to rest on the blonde’s shoulder. Roxas could feel the panting redhead’s breath chilling the layer of sweat that ran down his shoulder blade. When words became more than just a foreign concept, when his tongue was more muscle than cotton again, Roxas turned his head slightly, seeing only red hair, and chuckled deliriously.

“I can’t believe we did that right in front of her avocado roll.” 

Axel, with that hair sticking out at all angles, the ends drooping with sweat, laughed brightly and uninhibitedly against Roxas’s shoulder, infectious to the point where Roxas’s chuckles escalated to match him. They stayed like that, laughing, tangled together against the wall, dissolving into a further fit when they inevitably dared to glance at the portrait again. Like it was the easiest, most natural thing in the world, consistent as the setting of the sun or the ebb of the tide. 

When the laughter subsided, Axel withdrew with a low sigh, his free hand massaging the small of Roxas’s back as they both got their bearings. Once his heart stopped thundering from the sex and the laughter, the blonde straightened, groaning at the tension in his back as his spine realigned to a vertical position. Axel had disposed of the condom in the small silver wastebasket and started unwinding Roxas’s stiff fingers from the accessibility bar. Roxas could feel the blood rushing back into his sore, oxygen starved hand and when his fingers began curling on reflex, Axel raised the hand to press his lips against Roxas’s knuckles. 

They lingered a few minutes longer, Roxas adjusting himself to a type of discomfort he hadn’t really anticipated to be leaving this bathroom with, and Axel trying to make himself look somewhat presentable for his next table. They grinned almost manically at each other when Roxas stretched upward to fix that fucking hat. Finally, with the door opening, out of order sign still on it, Axel gave him one last grateful peck on the lips, a light ass grope, repeated his promise to come over once his shift ended, and the advice for Roxas to try not to walk like an 80-year old man on his way back to the table.

He was glad to see that no one seemed to notice his prolonged absence, finishing dessert and chatting like they were. That is, everybody except one. Xion arched a dark eyebrow at him as when he slowly, carefully, made his way back to the table, perceptive as ever. He planted himself at the wall beside her, expecting what was coming. 

“Again, Roxas?” she finally asked in a flat voice.

The blonde had the decency to blush and give her a chagrined ‘well, what can you do?’ smile.

Xion took a bite of melted ice cream, unimpressed. “I’m just glad you can’t get pregnant.”

Color rising in his cheeks, he scratched the back of his head. ”But you’d make, like, the best aunt ever.”

Her lips twitched in a wry smile, ink black hair swaying as she minutely shook her head with a chuckle.

“And godmother. Obviously.”

Soon enough everyone was gathering their jackets and doggie bags, some waddling towards the exit, not for the same reason as Roxas, but it almost felt like solidarity. As they were leaving Sora abruptly turned around from the lead and implored, blue eyes huge.

“Wait! Does anyone have change for the fountain?!”

A few hours later, Roxas was half-asleep on the sofa when he heard the spare key turning in the lock and Axel letting himself in. The jingling of keys and rustling of fabric eventually gave way to the sound of the floorboards shifting as he crossed the room towards the couch. Then, after a beat of stillness, was a soft press of lips to his temple, breath rustling the hair in his eyes. He didn’t open them yet, though he was sure that Axel knew he wasn’t asleep by how he sunk down into what space was remaining on the couch. 

The redhead had learned quickly that a sleeping Roxas was not a Roxas to be disturbed lightly, because the consequences were fairly extreme. He’d reasoned that it was like when a kitten is sleeping so adorably that you can’t help but wanna pet them. Roxas hadn’t been amused by the explanation, the Firestick raised above his head threateningly, but eventually indulged Axel’s inclination to give physical affection while he was in his sleep stupor under the stipulation that if Roxas tiredly growled to fuck off, he best listen if he wanted to keep his limbs and loins.

Tonight, instead, he drew that hand resting on his stomach up to clutch at the hem of Axel’s black shirt, turning his back to the couch to create more room. Axel horizontally slotted himself easily into the space, his long fingers automatically sinking into golden hair while Roxas nuzzled his face into the redhead’s chest. It was only after a few moments, when Roxas took a deep breath intended to be released in a contented sigh, that his peaceful face puckered, his nose wrinkled, and his eyes opened. He whipped his head back to glare conspiratorially at the curve of Axel’s jaw.

“You smell like mushrooms,” he accused.

Axel laughed brightly, the vibration traveling between their two aligned forms like an electric current.

“Hello to you too, my little toadstool tyrant.” His voice was warm, like standing next to a fireplace.

Roxas scooted back to make even the smallest amount of distance between him and the offending fabric while still maintaining their closeness. Once he stopped laughing, Axel brushed the blonde’s fluffy bangs aside, expression that of someone at the altar, one of worship. 

His thumb migrated to the hollow beneath his eye, feather light. “Tired you out huh?”

Roxas snorted, despite leaning into the warm callous of his palm, “Don’t get cocky, I was already tired.”

“Feeling better?” Axel asked without the customary snark, soft touch coasting to the blonde’s cheek

Roxas smiled affirmatively, blindly tracking the touch. “Yeah.”

“Good. Sora said you were in a mood when he called.”

“Sora can’t keep his mouth shut.”

“Well no one’s arguing that. Probably never will.” 

The hand against his face withdrew to his dismay, and Roxas felt Axel stand. He opened his eyes to immediately snatch at the retreating wrist and tugged, forcing Axel to bend over the couch and regard him with a curious expression, the ends of his red hair tickling across different points of Roxas’s face like constellations.

Half-lidded oceanic blue appealed to him, “Mmm, stay.” 

Axel smiled his fond crooked smile, perhaps Roxas’s favorite. “And subject you to the cruel and unusual torture of mushroom smell?” The pale wrist slid out of Roxas’s grip and snapped over his heart, Axel’s expression scandalized. “I could never live with doing such a terrible thing to someone I love.”

Roxas grinned upwards, like he was smiling at the sun and in a way he was. He reached up towards him, pulling on Axel’s collar, mushroom smell be damned, to connect their mouths in a simmering kiss. They continued like that for several minutes, unhurried, until Axel’s face hovered just above him, the tips of their noses brushing sweetly against each other. The love in those acid eyes was one of the few things in this world that Roxas was truly certain of. Like gravity, taxes, and death, like how Sora and he were two halves of a whole. Like how he could never taste seasalt ice cream without thinking of Xion. 

Axel was once reading a book on the theories of death amongst different religions and, when he came to the chapter on reincarnation, the redhead had looked at him funny, like he was trying to see him on a molecular level. He’d asked if Roxas believed in past lives, which, being the resident cynic, Roxas had answered with a negative. Axel had hummed, steepled his fingers, and looked up at the ceiling for a few long moments before telling Roxas how, every once in a while, usually at sunset, he’d get a strange feeling. 

“I dunno, it’s like deja vu or something, man. Sometimes I just get the feeling that I've been here before - that we’ve been here before.” He’d lowered his head, the shadows dancing off the sharp planes of his face, darkness dripping down his cheeks like tears. “Like this time around is a chance to get it right.”

“So you’re saying you fucked up last time? Not surprising.” 

Axel would talk hypothetically about their past lives and Roxas liked to make up absurd details to include in them, like how Axel was an assassin or even a French maid for a time. On some level, Roxas knew Axel was being truthful about that weird feeling, that it wasn’t all hypothetical storytelling. 

Last year, when his brother Reno had gotten into a motorcycle wreck and things were touch and go, Roxas could remember holding Axel, normally self-assured, bombastic, loud, and animated Axel, in his arms, feeling him trembling. He’d been exhausted, coming home after spending hours and hours in uncomfortable, rigid, hospital chairs, knee bouncing anxiously as he waited for news, his features haggard and drawn. Roxas had known from the moment he crawled into his bed that night and all but barnacled himself to the blonde, that his firestorm of a boyfriend needed him, without ever saying a word.

When he finally did speak, against Roxas’s collarbone, it was in a hushed, revernet, almost frightened voice. “Loving people eats you alive. When I think about him being gone, or if it was Xi or you hooked up to machines like a goddamn science experiment…”

He’d trailed off as Roxas’s gently stroked his scarlet hair, feeling long, clever fingers clench against his shoulder blad. “The not doing anything, the waiting, is killing me, Rox. 

And Roxas, though he doubted there would be another life, cynical as he was, knew that if there was, he knew he would love Axel in the next. It scared him how it was a primary factor of his existence. And when Reno healed, because he’s ‘indestructible’ as he crowed over his hospital bed and stole his roommates jello, he’s still catch Axel looking at him, flicking his fingertips as he left the room for a smoke.

“How about you get into bed and fire up Netflix while I go scrub the fungus off me and we watch a murder documentary while we fall asleep?”

“You’re such a freak,” Roxas chuckled, matching adoration plain on his face as he hauled himself to his feet. “Isa know you’re staying?”

“He’s thrilled to watch his astronomy special in peace.” Axel’s doting expression mirrored his own as he laced their fingers together to walk towards the bedroom. “Bob’s Burgers instead then?”

“Yes please.”


End file.
